


Almost Dawn

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Shameless Smut, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Smut, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Wet Dream, really this isn't that explicit I didn't say dick once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25387876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Fifth-year-Watford Baz would have loved this.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 186





	Almost Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> this is such a common trope but I love it honestly. oopsies 

**BAZ**

I snap awake when a groan pierces my ears. I open my eyes and allow myself to adjust to the dark as I remember I’m in Simon’s flat and lying in his bed. We tend to fall asleep right up against each other and slowly spread apart during the night when Simon’s wings eventually knock me out of his grasp. 

Once I can see Simon’s outline (illuminated partly by my ace eyesight and the soft light coming in from the window. It must be around five in the morning), I recognize that he’s lying on his stomach, his face turned towards me, his hands fisted in the sheets. 

When he groans again, I think he’s having a nightmare. His eyes are all screwed up like he’s in pain and he’s holding onto the sheets with white knuckles. 

I start to reach over to him until my eyes trail a little further down and notice his hips jut forward into the mattress. I stop my hand and hold my breath. _Oh._

Simon’s face softens a little bit and his mouth parts, a breathy whimper escaping him as his hips press forward again. His skin shines in the soft light, an almost sweaty sheen on his bare back.

In all of my time sharing a room with Simon, I’ve never seen him have a _wet dream_. I pull my hand back and feel incredibly guilty for watching, but I can’t tear my eyes away. Even if I did, there’s no way I’d be able to sleep. He’s very vocal.

Somehow it feels even worse that I’m watching him like this, as his boyfriend. Fifth-year-Watford-me would have _loved_ this. I probably would have used it as wank material for weeks. It feels _dirtier_ somehow, now. Now that I know what he sounds like when we’re fooling around, now that I have memorized the way his body reacts, it feels like eavesdropping on his private moment. 

I should just wake him up, but he looks so goddamn peaceful as he grinds his hips down into the mattress softly. Whenever we’re intimate, there’s an underlying note of insecurity in Simon, so it’s interesting to see him like this. No-Inhibitions-Simon. I’ve missed him. 

A particularly loud moan leaves his throat and I’m impressed that it doesn't wake him up. 

“Baz.” 

I freeze and check that his eyes are still closed. Simon whispering my name as he grinds in his sleep is insanely arousing and I can feel myself responding to it accordingly. 

I can’t continue this. I reach over and carefully touch my hand to his bare lower back. 

“Simon,” I breathe. “Darling.” 

Simon groans a little bit (a more sleepy noise than a sexual one) and lets his eyes open slowly. He blinks at me as he adjusts to the situation. 

“Hi,” he breathes, his voice underused and scratchy. He unclenches his fists from the sheets and looks down at himself quickly before snapping his eyes up to me. He’s blushing. “Uh, why’d you wake me up?” 

I smirk, but my stomach clenches a little bit as I tell him, “You were, uh, being pretty loud.” 

Simon tucks his legs up a little bit to get more comfortable, settling his wings neatly behind his back and looking ashamed. “Sorry.” 

I scoot a little bit closer to him so I can keep my arm around his back even after he’s shifted. “Don’t apologize,” I say, unable to put away my grin. “What were you dreaming about?”

Simon’s face flushes further and he ducks his head down to press against his pillow so he doesn’t have to make eye contact. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” I tease, running my fingers gently over his skin. 

Simon looks back up at me and rolls his eyes. “About you, you nightmare.” 

“Nightmares sound a lot different than _that_ , sweetheart.” 

Simon shakes his head and presses a little bit into my hand. “I’d suppose you of all people know what my nightmares sound like.” 

He’s right. We both suffered a lot from nightmares while we were in school together and I’d often wake up in the middle of the night to a shout from Simon across the room. Of course, I didn’t do anything about it at that time, but I always wanted to climb into bed with him and rock him until he calmed down. 

“Right.” I laugh a little bit and press close enough to him to press my mouth against his forehead. “Good dream?” I ask. 

Simon reaches a hand up to cup my jaw. “Yeah.” 

“Anything specific we should try out?” 

Simon laughs. “Honestly, I don’t really remember it.” He pauses and presses his lips to my neck. “It was nice, though.” 

I kiss his head before tucking a thumb under his chin so I can actually kiss him. He kisses me back sleepily, keeping his hand on my jaw, but brushing his fingers up towards my ear to tickle my earlobe softly. 

I grin into his mouth and Simon shifts his hips so he can be closer. 

It’s four in the morning, but Simon’s mouth is hot against mine and when he presses his hips forward into me, I tug him against and on top of me. 

“Is this okay?” I ask as I push over one of his legs so he’s straddling me. 

Simon spreads out his wings so we’re cocooned in the canopy he’s created for us. His tail wraps around my calf. “Yes,” he whispers, pressing a line of kisses down my neck. 

I grin and press up into his mouth, dropping my hands to his hips to tuck under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Simon grinds carefully against me, both of us already half hard from the previous events. 

I let Simon take control of the pace, just enjoying him sucking on my collarbone and grinding into me. 

I run my nails up Simon’s back and he arches down against me, our chests pressing together. He moans quietly against my skin. 

“Baz,” he whispers. 

“Yes, darling?” I breathe, kind of stopping my hips, worried that he’s uncomfortable. 

Simon leans up and kisses under my jaw. “Nothing,” he mutters, and I can tell he’s embarrassed. “Just feels good.” 

I grin and press my hand against Simon’s face so I can pull him up to kiss me. I lick gently into his mouth and I can feel him smile against me. 

His hips continue to grind, practically panting into my mouth as his hands press on either side of my head to support himself. 

With the space between our chests, I reach my hands up to run down his skin, pinching quickly at his nipples before moving further and tucking into the waistband of his pajamas again. 

Simon presses his face into my hair and whispers, “You can take them off.” 

I nod and start to tug Simon’s pajama bottoms and pants down his hips and he helps me in getting them completely off. He immediately presses down against me again and with less clothing between us, I can’t help but groan and buck my hips up. 

I can feel Simon smiling against the side of my head and he moves to hold himself up on his elbows so we can be closer. Simon kisses me harder than before, sucking at my lips and tongue like he can’t get close enough. 

Simon continues to rut against me and I ask, “Can I-?” reaching down to start to tug off my pants. He nods and helps me shed them, groaning once we’re pressing against each other with no barrier. 

Simon kisses me again and we press against each other harshly, hips bumping and grinding as our teeth clash and tongues tangle together. I push both of my hands up into his hair, tugging softly.

Simon whimpers my name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say, mouthing at my jaw again in between breaths. 

Reaching down between us, I wrap my hand around Simon and tug softly, causing him to grunt and buck forward. Every little twist of my hand or repositioning of my fingers against him makes Simon to press into me even more and moan against my skin. 

Grinding myself into Simon’s hip is just barely not enough so I move my hand to wrap around both of us, gently jerking us off together. I start with a slow pace but once Simon starts whispering, “C’mon, faster, please,” into my ear, I do as I’m told. 

I move my hand faster between us, both of us still grinding our hips into each other and racing to the orgasms that we’re on the precipice of. I tug at Simon’s hair and he grunts. 

I know Simon’s close when he can’t even whimper my name anymore, just panting breathlessly and twitching his hips forward into my hand. He tenses, my hand flicking faster as I bite softly at his neck, and he comes. Simon coming is always a spectacle (as is everything he’s ever done). He throws his head back and whisper-yells my name, hips twitching forward with reckless abandon as he chases the high of his orgasm. He’s so beautiful like this. 

Hearing and _feeling_ Simon come tips me over the edge and I simultaneously pull myself to my orgasm as I carry Simon through the aftershocks of his. I feel my arms tense and I shut my eyes tightly as I come, whispering Simon’s name with every single breath that’s available to me. My hand loses its fervor, but still brushes along both of us until our breathing has started to even out. 

I pull my hand out of Simon’s hair and grab my wand from the nightstand. I cast **Clean as a whistle** before both of us tug our pajamas back on. 

Simon kisses my cheek while settling so half of his body is laying over the top of mine, our legs twisted together. His wings are tucked against his back and his tail still hasn’t moved from being wrapped around my calf. 

It’s still nearly dawn, but I feel wide awake, trying to memorize the feeling of Simon being pressed against me. It still feels unreal that he wants to be here with me, that he wants me to hold him like this. 

“That was better than my dream,” Simon whispers against my jaw where he’s been pressing his mouth for the last few minutes. 

I grin a little. “Ah, so you do remember.” 

“I do,” he mumbles. “This was better.” 

“You’re just saying that,” I tease quietly, running my hand gently over his side. 

Simon kisses my chin. “I’m not. Dream Baz isn’t nearly as fit as Real Life Baz.” 

I have no response that won’t make me sound like a completely lovesick moron. (I am one, but I’d like to retain my dignity as long as possible). I hug Simon tighter to me. He falls back asleep within minutes, breath puffing out against my face in a comforting pattern. 

I hold him until the light coming in from the window is too hard to ignore. 


End file.
